After more than two years since the arrival of hurricane Katrina, I believe New Orleans gives us a profound opportunity to examine our priorities. In a million years I couldn't have imagined what I was going to encounter. The sights, the lack of sounds, the people, their viewpoints and their stories!
From day one I was struck at how residents in the Ninth Ward greeted me with great expectancy, as if they already knew the "when" and the "why" of my presence. What surprised me even more was how different their responses were to the same experience. "Kristine" spoke about the fact that she never wanted to live in the Ninth Ward in the first place and how the evacuation forced her to travel beyond the state lines, something she had never done before. "A lot of people around here don't want anything from life. I'm going to school and I want to start my own business. I'm never going back to the Ninth Ward."
"Charles", who looked to be in his late forties, talked about being a Ninth Ward resident his whole life and how disappointed he was at those who had not returned and people's lack of response. "It's crazy! People that I grew up with, all my neighbors and friends and nothin' man. Nothin'. Every body's gone and nobody cares."
And then there was "Elena" who was was one of the few who knew who to call and harass (organizations like the LRA, Louisiana Recovery Authority) month after month until she got the help and money that she rightly deserved. "You know, a lot of people just aren't aware of the proper channels. Don't get me wrong, I had to stay after some folk for months, but I knew how to work the system. I knew what I was entitled to." "Elena's" home had to be demolished because of the damage from the flooding, but she now lives in a beautiful modular home (a one level home that is shipped in two halves and put together on site).
Now I had hoped that the survivors of Katrina were going to have a lot to say and they did, but I was equally moved and inspired by the stories of many of the volunteers that I met and talked with.
I met a man in his early forties with the nick name "Jersey" who had come to the Ninth Ward to, as he simply stated, "do something." He had been wandering, trying to find his way in life and befriended a fellow traveller on a greyhound bus ride. During their journey of luke warm cups of coffee, shared cigarettes and discussions of what's wrong with the world they both agreed that they needed to be in New Orleans. I called it a "put up or shut up moment." He had been working in the Ninth Ward rebuilding houses for just over six months, but he had the energy and enthusiasm of someone who had just arrived.
Then there was "Brian" who had been working for a successful investment firm and decided that he could no longer collect a hefty paycheck for something that he did not have a passion for, or interest in. "I was sitting there in my comfortable job with my comfortable paycheck and I'm watching people on T.V. who have lost everything including their loved ones." "I put in my notice and came down here to help out for a couple of weeks." He's been rebuilding houses for almost a year.
There was one young man that I spotted cutting potatoes. He was doing his part of the Thanksgiving meal preparation. He stood out because he seemed very wise to be so young. When "Tommy" spoke he did so without any sense of needing to prove anything or impress anyone. He told me that he got his wisdom from living in more than 220 foster homes by the time he was 17 and for good measure, he also added 15 months of service in Iraq with the Airborne unit before being shot. "Some might say that I've done more living in my 23 years then most do in their entire lives." He came back to New Orleans because it was the city that he had lived in the longest. "My actions don't always conclude in logic, but I have a purpose for doing what I do and I'm not leaving until this place is back to where it should be." "Tommy," it seemed, was just getting started.
Every volunteer that I met had stayed longer than they intended and many were on their second, third and fourth tours of service. I met people who left jobs, relationships and identities behind. I talked with former addicts, convicts and runaways and they were all in New Orleans because they found tremendous meaning in this life serving mission of helping what the Bible calls "the least of us" and doing everything in their power to bring New Orleans back to life. They all had outgrown who they used to be and were in the process of becoming who they needed to be to accomplish this greater good. The irony was that they all lived in what many would consider to be substandard housing, with just the bare necessities as far as I could tell. A lot of twin mattresses with one or two sheets, no televisions, poor heating and folding chairs pushed under discarded tables found in the refuse piles.
And it wasn't unusual to see a lot cereal boxes and tuna cans in the pantries and kitchens that I explored. No gourmet meals on this watch.
No one was saying that it was easy and no one was complaining either, but everyone seemed to be in agreement with what one of the volunteer leaders told me: She said "seeing the face of a person whose house we just built or finding an old photo out of a pile of rubble and rust and giving that memory back to its owner makes this journey, this work and this service worth it."
There is a lot of work left to be done. The reason that the news cameras have stopped showing the in and out of New Orleans, (with the exception of Anderson Cooper's 360), is because it demonstrates the priorities of our leadership. Our house is in complete disarray and we simply choose to put our focus and resources elsewhere.
Margaret Meade said "never doubt that a small group of committed people can change the world, indeed it is the only thing that ever has." Well I'm here to give witness that there is a small group of residents and volunteers in New Orleans and they are creating change one step, one deed, one kind word of support, one house gutted, one wall of sheet rock put up, one cherished item found in the rubble, one house built, one life touched... at a time.
I am grateful to these heroes who have demonstrated through their acts a deeper and more honest expression of life in all of its beauty, humanity and struggle. I am humbled by their recognition that none of us is as strong as all of us and I am even more determined to make a difference for positive change in the lives of others.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
"Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to the Ninth Ward?"
I can't tell you how many times I heard people say "it's one thing to see the devastation on television, but it's something altogether different seeing it up close and personal."
Well... I can't believe that it's been more than two years and I'm seeing what I'm seeing! I felt like I was in a Stephen King novel. I was just waiting for the strange creatures to emerge from the huge piles of trash in front of the abandoned houses. I knew at any second, haunting figures would squeeze out from under the numerous family rooms covered in moldy couches, carpets and table tops or climb out of the rusted washing machines, refrigerators and ovens. Every ceiling fan looked like stylized tear drops as the blades all drooped downward in warped sadness.
Many parts of the Ninth Ward felt like a ghost town, with only two sounds; Buzzing dragonflies and the slow crawl of my car tires over broken glass and rusty nails. Judging by the amount of overgrown grass, weeds and shrubbery, it looks as if all of the abandoned homes in America were dropped off in this one spot of New Orleans, LA.
This is not to say that I didn't find homes that have been rebuilt or were at least works in progress, I just didn't find that many. But there are definitely people who have fought their way back; who with great grit, determination and good old fashioned stubbornness said "this is my home and I ain't goin' nowhere!" I spoke with "Mike" who said that "it's been like heaven because the wild wild west is gone." He was referring to some of his neighbors from the past who engaged in nightly cussin' and fussin', but did not come back after the storm. He said "heaven" with such passion! It was as if he had just taken a sip from a cool mint julep. He pointed out the other three homes that had occupants (as opposed to the twenty that remained empty) who maintained standards for clean and quiet living. "Yea I took a big hit comin' back here, but I didn't like Houston. I'm 57 years old; I wasn't about to start over."
"Ms. Simone," who is in her late eighties, told me how she has been washing her laundry in the bathtub and waiting for one of her four neighbors to remove the trash from her lawn because FEMA never delivered the new washer and dryer that they had promised and they stopped collecting the refuse from renovation months ago. I asked her if she felt like the area had gotten a fair shake. "No" she said. "There's just a lot that never got done, but it don't do no good to talk about it. I'm doin' just fine. There's no grocery store nearby, but I just count my blessings and keep on goin."
There was a man in his late forties who passed by several times on his bike as I spoke with "Ms. Simone." He struck me as a bit of a character because he had a baby pit bull that ran along side him and he wore an over sized white t-shirt with caulking stains, jeans, white sneakers and sun glasses. His head was shaved and every time he rode by he said "good morning good people!" I definitely had to talk to him. He reminded me of the stuttering guy from Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing." I got in my car and caught up to him. "How's it been for you?" I asked. "Do you think this area has gotten a fair shake?" He chuckled the way a man would if he were laying on a bed of nails and you asked him his shoe size. "What's fair? You know? I mean all this is temporary. It's just stuff. We spend such a short amount of time in this life." His words disarmed and inspired me. "What wisdom" I thought. Then he said, "You know the thing that bothered me the most was how people acted after the storm. The things they did man, I mean we were all goin' through some stuff, but man the things people did... the way they acted..." He paused and stared silently through his sun glasses as if they were mini movie screens playing back the horror he remembered. "I'm more concerned with the next life though. That one's a lot longer!" He laughed again. It was a painful laugh, a laugh that acknowledged all he had lost and would never find. The tone of his laugh rattled my spine. I wanted to cry, but instead I thanked him for his time. I didn't get his name.
"God bless you brother," he said as I got back into my car. "God bless you too."
Well... I can't believe that it's been more than two years and I'm seeing what I'm seeing! I felt like I was in a Stephen King novel. I was just waiting for the strange creatures to emerge from the huge piles of trash in front of the abandoned houses. I knew at any second, haunting figures would squeeze out from under the numerous family rooms covered in moldy couches, carpets and table tops or climb out of the rusted washing machines, refrigerators and ovens. Every ceiling fan looked like stylized tear drops as the blades all drooped downward in warped sadness.
Many parts of the Ninth Ward felt like a ghost town, with only two sounds; Buzzing dragonflies and the slow crawl of my car tires over broken glass and rusty nails. Judging by the amount of overgrown grass, weeds and shrubbery, it looks as if all of the abandoned homes in America were dropped off in this one spot of New Orleans, LA.
This is not to say that I didn't find homes that have been rebuilt or were at least works in progress, I just didn't find that many. But there are definitely people who have fought their way back; who with great grit, determination and good old fashioned stubbornness said "this is my home and I ain't goin' nowhere!" I spoke with "Mike" who said that "it's been like heaven because the wild wild west is gone." He was referring to some of his neighbors from the past who engaged in nightly cussin' and fussin', but did not come back after the storm. He said "heaven" with such passion! It was as if he had just taken a sip from a cool mint julep. He pointed out the other three homes that had occupants (as opposed to the twenty that remained empty) who maintained standards for clean and quiet living. "Yea I took a big hit comin' back here, but I didn't like Houston. I'm 57 years old; I wasn't about to start over."
"Ms. Simone," who is in her late eighties, told me how she has been washing her laundry in the bathtub and waiting for one of her four neighbors to remove the trash from her lawn because FEMA never delivered the new washer and dryer that they had promised and they stopped collecting the refuse from renovation months ago. I asked her if she felt like the area had gotten a fair shake. "No" she said. "There's just a lot that never got done, but it don't do no good to talk about it. I'm doin' just fine. There's no grocery store nearby, but I just count my blessings and keep on goin."
There was a man in his late forties who passed by several times on his bike as I spoke with "Ms. Simone." He struck me as a bit of a character because he had a baby pit bull that ran along side him and he wore an over sized white t-shirt with caulking stains, jeans, white sneakers and sun glasses. His head was shaved and every time he rode by he said "good morning good people!" I definitely had to talk to him. He reminded me of the stuttering guy from Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing." I got in my car and caught up to him. "How's it been for you?" I asked. "Do you think this area has gotten a fair shake?" He chuckled the way a man would if he were laying on a bed of nails and you asked him his shoe size. "What's fair? You know? I mean all this is temporary. It's just stuff. We spend such a short amount of time in this life." His words disarmed and inspired me. "What wisdom" I thought. Then he said, "You know the thing that bothered me the most was how people acted after the storm. The things they did man, I mean we were all goin' through some stuff, but man the things people did... the way they acted..." He paused and stared silently through his sun glasses as if they were mini movie screens playing back the horror he remembered. "I'm more concerned with the next life though. That one's a lot longer!" He laughed again. It was a painful laugh, a laugh that acknowledged all he had lost and would never find. The tone of his laugh rattled my spine. I wanted to cry, but instead I thanked him for his time. I didn't get his name.
"God bless you brother," he said as I got back into my car. "God bless you too."
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
To Do: Oh yeah, I almost forgot New Orleans!
Well ladies and gentleman,
I'm off to Raleigh, N.C. to do a series of presentations at 'Another Choice Annual Power Conference' on Friday and Saturday and then I embark on a journey to New Orleans.
Like most of you, I immediately sent money, food and clothes when Katrina first hit. Like most of you, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Like most of you, I continued to send resources, but I eventually tuned out thinking that "somebody else" was going to pick up where I left off.
Well here we are two years later and folk are still hurting, still doing without, still feeling abandoned, still without resources and still wondering what next?
I figure the least I can do is stop procrastinating and go on down and listen. I figure the least I can do is put my skills to use the same way so many "somebody elses" have done for the last two plus years.
I'll be there Thanksgiving week giving you updates on what things are like in New Orleans 26 months later.
Ladies and gentleman, if there is something that you have been procrastinating on, if you have been holding an idea or a project hostage while waiting for the ransom of "just the right circumstances", then I am here to tell you that that ransom will never be paid.
Just get on with it!!!
Sincerely sending you Success in All that you do!,
ed blunt
I'm off to Raleigh, N.C. to do a series of presentations at 'Another Choice Annual Power Conference' on Friday and Saturday and then I embark on a journey to New Orleans.
Like most of you, I immediately sent money, food and clothes when Katrina first hit. Like most of you, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Like most of you, I continued to send resources, but I eventually tuned out thinking that "somebody else" was going to pick up where I left off.
Well here we are two years later and folk are still hurting, still doing without, still feeling abandoned, still without resources and still wondering what next?
I figure the least I can do is stop procrastinating and go on down and listen. I figure the least I can do is put my skills to use the same way so many "somebody elses" have done for the last two plus years.
I'll be there Thanksgiving week giving you updates on what things are like in New Orleans 26 months later.
Ladies and gentleman, if there is something that you have been procrastinating on, if you have been holding an idea or a project hostage while waiting for the ransom of "just the right circumstances", then I am here to tell you that that ransom will never be paid.
Just get on with it!!!
Sincerely sending you Success in All that you do!,
ed blunt
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
ACTIONS of FAITH
Actions of Faith are what you must take everyday if you have any desire to go beyond where you are. When I say Actions of Faith I mean making a commitment to something and not knowing HOW you're going to do it. When I say Actions of Faith I mean walking in a way that says you already HAVE that which you seek, you already ARE that which you desire to become. It's a place and a space that you must occupy with BOLDNESS and COURAGE. Think about some of your most significant moments, transitions and events... I wasn't there, but I'm sure they required some committed ACTION on your part without your knowing the outcome or being fully "equipped" with everything you thought you needed.
More often than not people take those positions out of necessity. Their job demands it or an unexpected situation occurs, but why wait?! Pick something today and take one ACTION of FAITH toward its realization.
One thing I do is to tip a minimum of $10 anytime I go out to eat, no matter what I order, to demonstrate in ACTION of FAITH that there will always be more money coming in than going out.
So do your thing and let it swing!
Stay up and don't hold back!
ed blunt
More often than not people take those positions out of necessity. Their job demands it or an unexpected situation occurs, but why wait?! Pick something today and take one ACTION of FAITH toward its realization.
One thing I do is to tip a minimum of $10 anytime I go out to eat, no matter what I order, to demonstrate in ACTION of FAITH that there will always be more money coming in than going out.
So do your thing and let it swing!
Stay up and don't hold back!
ed blunt
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